Mr. Man is a blankie guy.  Whatever may be troubling him, if he can locate his trusty blankie and his thumb (one of those is readily accessible at all times), all will be well.  If he can locate blankie, thumb, and Mommy’s lap, it’s a perfectly glorious day in his world.  Since we have a very tiny person, one Baby Guy, in our midst, Mommy’s lap is frequently occupied, and Mr. Man does not like to share.  His major motivation for learning to go down the stairs was being able to get to his room to retrieve his blankie when he wants it; it’s actually really cute when he stands outside the boys’ room door (he has not, as yet, figured out how to turn the knob to open the door) and calls for his oldest sister to open the door.  After he wails, “Bugaboo!  Door!  Open!” a couple of times, he remembers what he’s supposed to say, and a sweetly wheedling, “Pleeeeeease?” wafts up the stairs.  Bugaboo is a sufficiently kindhearted big sister that she usually puts down her toys and helps the little guy out.  Of course, she then also gets to spend a few minutes playing with the boys’ toys, which is reward enough for her.

Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Man and Baby Guy achieved that wonder of wonders, nap synchronicity.  They fell asleep and woke, each in his own bed, at the same time.  This, of course, afforded the girls the opportunity to catch a Care Bears movie and me the chance to catch a desperately needed nap.  For an hour, at least, there was peace in our valley.

The boys did, of course, awaken, and began chorusing for something drinkable.  While I was listening to their serenade (ahem) over the monitor and bustling about the kitchen to prepare appropriate beverages, the girls came in and asked if they could play outside.  I reminded them that they are required to wear not only shoes, but also pants, in order to do so (what is it about preschoolers and pants?!?!?), and sent them down the hall to attire themselves appropriately.  Bottle and sippy in hand, I clumped down the stairs, managed not to trip over the ever-enthusiastic Smudgie, and opened the door to quell the rebellion.

Mr. Man, as a rule, wakes up in a bit of a sour mood, which is a trait I am embarrassed to admit he inherited from his mother.  He was scowling into his sippy cup as Bugaboo and Beanie, properly clad and shod, raced to and out the back door, with Smudgie hot on their heels.  I sat in the rocking chair, feeding Baby Guy, while Mr. Man surveyed the room.  He seemed to be trying to decide whether to join his sisters or hang out and play with his toys and his little brother, who thinks he is the funniest guy in the world.

As Mr. Man finished his last slurp of milk, Bo shambled into the boys’ room.  Bo is old; he turned 11 earlier this month, and he’s a bit of a cantankerous codger.  He is also the most faithful guardian, friend, and protector four little kids (and their parents, and a ridiculously huge puppy) could ever hope to have.  While he spends a fair amount of time complaining at the tribe for stomping, screaming, and throwing things too close to his tender old head, he also curls up nearby when they are quiet, and never lets the smallest ones out of his sight.  He sleeps by the boys’ door at night.

After a quick perusal of the room assured him that this might be a good place for an ancient wonder to get a little peace and quiet, Bo curled up on the corner of the boys’ rug.  Mr. Man watched him, carefully set his sippy upright on the floor, and walked over to his bed.  While watching over his shoulder, he winkled his beloved blankie out through the slats of his crib, tiptoed over to Bo, and covered his old puppy with his blankie.  Then he put on his shoes and went outside to frolic with his sisters and Smudgie.

Bo had a rather nice nap.

Today’s prayer:  Lord, You call us to comfort the weary and the lonely.  Please teach me to have the same generosity of spirit as Your blessings, who, without reservation, share the things that are most precious to them out of love, to comfort a friend.  It’s the faith of a child thing again, Lord.  Thank You for sending me such blessings as these, who remind me daily what remarkable things faith and its exercise are.


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